


Four Course Dinner

by shadowwaker



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: M/M, Post Advent Children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-22
Updated: 2009-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-22 00:05:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/231403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowwaker/pseuds/shadowwaker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rufus is bent on proving his worth in the kitchen, after having been offended by Reno. The night before Yule has surprises in stow for all.” FF_Santa (2009) gift for grrlzombie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Course Dinner

**Author's Note:**

  * For [grrlzombie](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=grrlzombie).



“Do you think we really offended him?” Elena asked, as she and Reno pressed their ears against the kitchen door.

“He shouldn’t get so worked up about something so small.” the redhead protested. “All I said was: ‘hire a cook or take a turn in cooking.”

“Yeah, but…” the woman countered, “The way you said it---”

The redhead snorted, angry. “Why, because I said he couldn’t cook? He can’t! He’s a rich kid who never had to fend for himself. That’s why.”

“Still, you could’ve---” Reno glared at her, and she stopped. “All I’m saying is…”

“What… are you saying?” he asked, irritated, when she didn’t finish her sentence.

“You know…” she said and glanced at the door, as if she could see through it, “There’s an awful lot of knifes in there and he hasn’t been too cheerful lately. You know he doesn’t take well to being reminded he _was_ a rich man. And then _lost_ everything.”

The redhead stared at her, at the same time listening to Rufus rummaging through the drawers on the other side of the door. “Are we talking about the same guy here?”

“Well, _you_ know! One never knows how people react!” the blonde protested.

“Yeah, but… this is Rufus we’re talking about. He’d challenge Death to a game of cards before kicking the bucket.”

Elena pouted. “I wish Tseng was here. He’d know what to do.”

“He’d tell you to cool it. Seriously, Leny, stop making a fuss over everything. Our boss will be the _last_ to kill himself.”

Suddenly, the kitchen door opened and the two Turks nearly toppled over.

“Will you two housewives go gossip somewhere else?” the former president of Shinra company said, irritated, standing in the doorway with his hands in his hip.

“Housewives?!” Reno protested, offended.

Rufus threateningly leaned in. His head was so close to his that Reno could almost smell the faded scent of aftershave. “You’re distracting me. Go away.” At that, he pulled back and slammed shut the door again.

“Was he…” Elena started, stunned, “wearing an apron?”

“He called us housewives!” he cried out, and pointed at the door while looking at his younger colleague.

The blonde gave him a flat stare. “Well… you’re known to gossip like one.”

The redhead snorted, offended, and jerked his head to the side. Elena giggled and grabbed his arm. “Let’s go somewhere else, before the president comes out again. With a knife.”

Reno let her guide him into the living of their new apartment, and let her earlier comment sink in. They passed by the decorated Yule tree that double functioned as a divide between the dining area and the living area / television corner. “An apron, huh?”

“Please don’t finish that thought.” Elena said and held up a finger.

“Why not?” he laughed, surprised.

“You’re such a perv.” she sighed, shaking her head.

“I was worried about dying of indigestion if we eat whatever he’s making.”

“Right.”

“Really.” he smiled innocently, “But now that you’ve brought it up…” He chuckled, intent on teasing. “I can imagine a lot of things that _are_ delicious with Rufus in the kitchen.”

Elena shot him a look that said she wasn’t amused.

He laughed and shook his head. “As much as I’d love to do him, he’s straight as a board. I try not to even think about it. Disappointments, ya know.”

The blond Turk let herself fall down on the couch and the pillows with a ‘flump’, smiling at the softness. “That never stopped you before.”

“Well… no… but this is different. He’s my boss and I see him every day.” he mused, and draped himself over the armchair, legs hanging over the armrest.

“Would you fantasize about it if he wasn’t straight?” she asked, biting her lower lip to suppress a grin.

The redhead looked at her, giving her a funny look. “What’s with you and these conversations?”

“Nothing.” she said quickly, and nervously brushed her fingers through her hair. Barely above a whisper, she added: “But it’d be hot to see.”

Reno put his hand over his eyes, smiling embarrassed, before looking at her again, mocking. “You fantasize about these things?”

She laughed, also embarrassed. “No. Of course not.”

“Of _course_ not.” he replied, evilly grinning. “We can’t have Tseng sharing your daydreams with two guys making out.”

A pillow flew through the air and hit the redhead full in his face.

“How much would you pay?” he asked, his voice muffled by the thick pillow, before he pushed it down.

“For what?”

“Watching me make out?” he grinned.

Another pillow soared through the TV corner and hit the Turk in his face. Reno laughed and hugged the big pillows closer. “I think I struck a gold mine.” came his muffled voice.

The kitchen door opened in the hall way, and Rufus stepped through the doorway on the other side of the room with plates and cutlery in his hands. He set them down on the dinner table and started to arrange them. Reno glanced at him from between the pillows. There was flour and traces of something green on his dark blue apron. He’d taken off his white jacket and only wore his two shirts and vest underneath, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows.

Rufus vanished into the hallway again and the kitchen door fell shut. Reno glanced at Elena and pushed up the top pillow, the other one tucked under his chin. “I bet you a 100 Gil he doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

“I don’t know…” the blonde said and stared at the closed door. “He looked pretty serious.”

“He always looks serious.” he countered. “It’s called a poker face. He’s bluffing, ya know.”

“What if he isn’t?”

Reno gestured wildly at the kitchen. “He’s never had to work a day in his life! In the kitchen, that is. There’s _no way_ he knows what he’s doing. Who would’ve taught him anyway?”

“His mother?” Elena suggested, not so certain herself.

“I can’t imagine Rufus’ father letting his precious heir waste time with ‘feminine’ things. He was meant to be a strong and respectable leader of this world’s biggest company. Not a housewife.”

“Men cook too!” the blonde protested.

“Not of his stature.”

“Well… I’m still curious what he’s making.”

“He can go stand on his head for all I care, but if it looks even slightly suspicious, I’m not eating it. I’m a Turk, not a dumpster.”

“You’re such a drama queen.” Elena smiled, and aimed the remote control at the television.

“Kept me alive for this long.” he replied, and shifted on the seat until sat with his legs facing the screen. “I wonder how long it’ll take him before he either gives up or puts something on the table.”

“We’ll see.”

* * *

Reno looked away from the television screen and checked his watch, pursing his lips in disapproval. “What’s taking him so long?”

The blond Turk just shrugged, keeping her eyes fixed on the large television screen which displayed little of interest, but – as Rude put it – ‘just moved’.

He let out an agitated sigh and slid out of the arm chair. His sock clad feet shuffled over the floor, before he stopped in front of the kitchen door and knocked on the wood. “Hey Jamie, you almost done in there? Or do you need some help?”

“No!” came the muffled, irritated reply from beyond the door.

Reno stared at his socks on the hallway’s floor and sighed, annoyed. “’No’ what?”

“No, I don’t need your help and, no, it’ll take a while longer.”

“How much longer?” he complained, “We’re starving. It’s almost seven, ya know.”

Rufus’ retort was accompanied by a shrill, beeping sound. “And you call yourself a Turk?”

“Fine!” the redhead growled back. “We’ll starve for a little while longer, keeping up our honour as Turks. But it better be worth it!”

 

* * *

One and a half hour later, Rufus entered the living room, went back to the kitchen and returned again, each time a new bowl in his hands. Eager and hungry, Reno got up from his seat after the first bowl had been put on the table. Elena showed a little more polite patience, and sat down on one of the wooden chairs by the time Rufus returned with the last bowl.

Inside the three bowls was a thick, orange liquid and Reno stared awkwardly at it.

“What?” Rufus asked as he sat down. “Never seen soup before?”

“Sure…” the redhead drawled, “But… it took you hours just to make a little bit of ….soup.”

“Pumpkin soup.” Rufus explained, “And no. This is just the first dish.”

There were so many things Reno wanted to reply to at once, but settled for the one that caused a sense of dread. “Pumpkin? Where’d you get a pumpkin?”

“Why? Did you have an emotional attachment to that thing?” the blond flatly replied, sensing what he was getting it.

The redhead gasped in shock. “You didn’t!”

“It would’ve started to rot if you’d waited any longer. You’ve had it around since before All Hallow’s Eve.” he calmly countered. “You can get yourself a new one next year. And do make a Jack-o’-lantern out of it this time.”

The Turk sulked. “You had no right going in my room and snatching my pumpkin. I bought that with my own money. I had plans with it.”

“Hmmm.” Elena hummed with a spoon still in her mouth, delighted. “Your pumpkin make a noble sacrifice today. It’s delicious.”

That surprised the redhead. “Really?”

“Hmhm.” she hummed affirmative, another spoonful of soup in her mouth.

Suspicious, Reno slid his own spoon in the soup, letting the fluid drip off the metal first, before bringing it to his mouth. He couldn’t quite describe the taste, but he had to agree… the pumpkin had not been sacrificed in vain.

“So… what’s next?” he asked, as soon as he bowl was empty.

Rufus snorted at his manners, the corner of his mouth curled up in amusement. “You’ll see. As soon as everybody’s done eating.”

When everybody finished, the blond man collected the bowls and returned to the kitchen. Shortly after, he put a large, glass baking dish on the table and started cutting the pie with a bread knife. Hot vapours escaped from the golden crust and fluids tried to climb onto the top where Rufus applied pressure.

“What is it?” Reno asked, as he curiously glanced at the green stuff inside.

“Spinach pie.” he answered, keeping his attention on cutting with utmost precision. “With dried tomatoes, goat cheese and onion.”

“Were those the leftover ingredients from Rude’s homemade pizza last week?” Elena asked, curious.

“Hmhm.” he replied. “I had to improvise a bit with the things I could find.”

“Who taught you that?” Reno asked while he intently studied the piece of spinach pie on his plate.

“My mother.”

“Ha!” Elena exclaimed, “I told you!”

He looked up from his plate and glanced at Rufus’ face. “Your father approved of that?”

The blond laughed silently to himself. “No. I’d put the servants out of a job, he’d say. But he was rarely at home. Always away on business. Or… sleeping around.”

“Your mother must’ve hated that.” Elena sadly said.

“I don’t know…” he answered, and put the last piece of pie on his plate. “She always seemed happier when he wasn’t around. I honestly don’t know why she stayed with that man.” For a moment, he was silent in thought. “Because of me perhaps. Because she knew if she left, she couldn’t take me with her. Even if she tried.”

An awkward tension started to spread across the table.

“Wouldn’t wine go well with this?” Reno cut in.

“It would.” Rufus agreed, relieved, “In fact, I already had one picked out.”

He walked over to the small wine rack against the wall behind the Yule tree. Careful not to touch the needles, he reached around the braches and pulled out a bottle. The wineglasses were already on the table, and after he removed the cork, he expertly poured everyone a glass.

“You decided to go all out, huh?” Reno asked, a pleased grin on his face.

Rufus snorted. “I’m not going to let anyone call me a spoiled, helpless rich kid. I can fend for myself, and I’ll prove it too.”

“Heh. I’ve I’d known calling you that would have this effect, I would’ve done it sooner.”

“You’ve really forgotten your place, haven’t you Turk?”

“I’m no more a Turk than you are the president of Shinra company.” the redhead countered, rebellious, “Our titles are little more than the empty, broken hull that is Shinra Headquarters.”

“How poetic.” he sneered, and took a long sip from his wine.

“That’s what I told Rude.” he snickered, and followed Rufus’ example. He’d barely swallowed the wine, or he started to cough violently. “Good Ifrit! You call this wine?”

Rufus took another sip from his glass, and raised an eyebrow. “This is what they call wine, yes. Unlike the cheap stuff you drink.”

“This isn’t wine. It’s vodka in disguise!”

Elena eyed her glass suspiciously, and put it back down on the table. Best if at least _one_ person remained sober for the night. She’d hate to see Tseng and Rude return only to find the house successfully attacked by assassins.

“It’s a little strong, I’ll admit.” he said, and swirled the content around in the glass. “But I like it that way. Now… shall we eat the rest of our dinner, or do you prefer to keep picking fights with me?”

“Hmm, tough decision.” Reno said, and took a bite of his food.

* * *

They finished the rest of the meal while Elena chattered about every topic she could come up with, just to keep a friendly conversation going. Rufus kept refilling the glasses with wine whenever they were empty, and Reno was amazed to see how much of his cold and distant exterior seemed to melt away as time progressed.

By the time they halfway through desert – a large chocolate pudding with a Yule tree carved into the top – Reno actually started to like the blond man. Although it could’ve been the alcohol buzzing through his veins.

“You know what your problem is?” he drawled, grinning, and pointed his desert spoon at the former president. “You ought to get laid.”

Rufus raised his eyebrows, amused. He wasn’t certain how the conversation had gone from energy problematics to this. “Is that so?”

“Uh huh. You’re taking things way too serious. There’s more to life than work, ya know?”

“I was aware of that, yes.” he replied, amusedly smiling. “But some things can’t be taken serious enough. We’re talking about lives here after all, and the economy won’t survive another energy shortage either.”

Reno rolled his eyes, and shook his head, a little sluggish from the alcohol. Good stuff, that wine. “This is exactly what I mean. All you talk about is ‘the world this’ and ‘the world that’ and how you’re gonna fix it. But you know what? You can’t. You’re just one guy and the world doesn’t want your help.” The amusement had all but disappeared from Rufus’ face. “You’re always talking about how you’re going to rebuild your company, but you and I both know it ain’t gonna happen.”

“Reno…” Elena warningly interjected, but the redhead ignored her.

“You say you want to reclaim what is rightfully yours.” he continued. “Ever considered it _might_ not be Shinra company? Why don’t you reclaim what _is_ yours? Your _life_. Not a ghost from the past.”

“If that’s how you feel…” Rufus started, “then what are you still doing here? Surely, there’s no place for Turks in this new world either.”

Reno quieted down, and prodded the remains of his chocolate pudding with the spoon. “I don’t know… I haven’t decided yet. Everything calls for change, but… I don’t know how to. This is the only life I’ve ever know, aside from starving down in the Slums.”

“Then the solution is clear, isn’t it?” he asked, and looked from the redhead to Elena. “We’ve got to show them that Shinra company has a right to exist. Perhaps not in its old form, but surely… We have a right to exist.”

Elena nodded, smiling proudly. “That’s right.”

“How are you going to find that new form?” Reno looked up. “You always do things in the same fashion. With slight variations, perhaps, but never radically different. Nothing’ll change that way.”

Rufus studied him with an intrigued expression.

“What?” he demanded, irritated.

The blond shook his head. “Nothing. I’m just not used to you talking like that.”

“I prefer to steer clear from such discussions.” he said, and tugged on the ponytail that hung over his shoulder as he turned away his face. “It only gets me in trouble as a Turk. I’ll get tangled up between doing what I _must_ do and what I feel is _right_ to do.”

“We’ve all seen where that doubt leads to.” Elena agreed, thinking about how long ago the Turks rebelled against the company and were ordered executed.

This time Rufus quieted, staring at the glass of red wine in his hand, and an awkward silence hung over the table.

“Sooo…” Reno cut in again to break the silence, “About getting laid. I meant it, it’s a good idea. Try some new things. Maybe you’ll get some inspiration about where you want to go with the company.”

Rufus’ laugh was both a snort as a sigh. “I don’t know about that.”

“Seriously, there’s plenty of women who’d want to share your bed!” the redhead encouraged him, and waved his spoon about.

The blond looked at him, not very impressed and took a sip from his wine.

“Go out there and find one!”

“Hmm.” he hummed, smiling to himself, and stared at the table, swirling the contents of his wineglass around.

There was a short silence, before Elena blurted out: “You don’t like women, do you?”

“Ooh, I do.” he replied, startled, and looked up.

“Just… not in _that_ way?” Reno tried, both cautious as intrigued.

Rufus stared at his wine, thinking, and took a big swig, emptying the glass. Then he looked at the two Turks again, and said: “I think I’m going to clean the kitchen now.”

At that, he got up, collected the dirty plates, dishes and cutlery, and left the room.

* * *

A little while later, Reno entered the kitchen and closed the door behind him. Rufus was still busy cleaning the dishes. “Hey…” he started, his voice soft. “Can I help?”

The blond shook his head. “It’s alright. I got it under control. Besides, we’d probably be fighting in no time.”

“With anything?” he tried.

Rufus looked up, gauging him. Then he looked back at the soapy water. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

The Turk sighed and leaned back against the door. “You’re not making it easier on yourself you know. Trying to fight the world _and_ your feelings at the same time.”

“I can do it.”

“I believe that.” he said. “You’re strong.” Rufus looked at him, meeting his eyes. “But does it make you happy? It’s draining all your energy.”

The blond didn’t reply and concentrated on his chore again.

“Elena said something smart---”

“It’s unheard of.” he interrupted.

“Oh, come one.” Reno protested. “Only I get away with making mean jokes like that, okay? She really did say something smart.”

“What’s that?”

“That you talk about ‘fighting’ a lot.” he answered. “Which ‘consequently means you’re resisting something’. She thought that maybe we’re taking this all wrong. Maybe we aren’t meant to fight anything. That if we ‘just stopped fighting for a moment and go were the stream takes us’, maybe we’d find our rightful place. No one ever said our place lies upstream.”

Rufus looked at him, and laughed. It was a genuine laugh that held no contempt. “This must be the most philosophical thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

“I have my moments. Thank you.” he mocked him, pointing his nose in the air and ran his fingers through his hair.

“So, you’re telling me to give in? Is that it?” he asked.

“No.” Reno shook his head. “I’m saying that you might be fighting against the wrong things.”

Rufus focussed on the plates in the soapy water again. “What else did you talk about?” There was a bitterness in his voice, Reno couldn’t place at first.

“Oh. Just things. She kept mocking me for something I said earlier.” he shrugged.

“Really?” the blond asked, and suddenly the origin of that bitterness sunk in.

Reno raised his eyebrows in realisation and surprise. “We weren’t speaking ill of you, if that’s what you mean.” Rufus didn’t seem very convinced, so he added: “I’ve been there, ya know. Where you’re standing right now. I’ve been there too. So believe me when I say no one here will think bad of you because of it. Trust me.”

Rufus looked up, surprised and questioning. “You…?”

The Turk nodded.

“I…had not expected that.” the blond said, aghast.

“Likewise.” Reno laughed, and was silent for a moment in which the two men just looked at each other. “Well. I can see you’re not going to let me help out here, so I’ll be going now. Meet me outside later?”

* * *

Outside, a cold winter wind blew around the house, carrying stray flakes of snow. The house was build on high stilts against the mountain side. In that sense, it was much like the place they had at the Healin lodge, but they were alone here on the mountain, in the woods.

Rufus wore a long coat over his clothes and had a scarf wrapped around his neck against the winter cold. The wooden planks of the walkway creaked under his feet as he walked.

“You’re insane.” he told Reno, “Sitting out here in the cold like that.”

Reno also wore a coat and scarf, and sat on the floor with his legs dangling over the edge. “A little. I plan to go inside once it gets too cold though.”

“What did you want to talk about?” Rufus asked.

The redhead sighed, warm breath turning to mist against the cold wind. “I changed my mind. It’s stupid.”

“Why? What was it?”

Reno shook his head, still not turning around. His arms leaned on the middle beam of the wooden railing.

“Don’t tell me you made me come out here in the cold for nothing?”

“I was thinking that we… You know, since we’re both… But it’s a stupid idea, and I didn’t realise it because of the alcohol.” Reno waved one hand about, as if he was whisking the words away as soon as he said them.

“I had a feeling you’d say that.” he admitted. “And you’re right. I’m still your superior after all. But… I can make an exception for tonight?”

Reno turned his head, giving the blond man a funny look. Rufus wavered.

“Could we at least kiss then?” Rufus asked, hesitant. “I so long to know the feeling.”

The cold winter breeze played through Reno’s red hair and turned his breath into little clouds. He studied the man’s face and tried to gauge the risks. “One kiss. Okay? One kiss. Or I’ll start wanting more.”

The blond man nodded, and sat down beside the Turk, letting his legs dangle over the edge of the walkway and put one hand on the beam halfway up the wooden railing. He shivered against the cold. Then he turned to the man next to him, and slowly leaned in when he did too. Hands reached out and cupped each man’s face. Little clouds of breath danced and vanished on the air between them. A stray snowflake fell onto Rufus’ hair, and Reno brushed it away.

Before he knew it, warm lips pressed against his own and hot breath ghosted over his chilled skin. Their lips moved against each other, time after time, before Rufus slowly opened his mouth and Reno slid in his tongue. They danced around each other, pressing, sliding, and exploring. The blond was inexperienced, but surprisingly bold and skilled even. As if he’d imagined doing this a thousand times over, and it actually had an effect.

Reno gripped the back of Rufus’ head, nestling his fingers in his hair, and pulled him closer, savouring his flavour. He tasted of chocolate and liquor… like a cherry bonbon.

“Hmm.” Reno hummed, and lightly pulled on the blond’s lips with his teeth. “Is there a course after desert?”

The man laughed between kisses. “I don’t think so. Why?”

“Because you’re on the menu.”


End file.
